


Falling Down

by stardropdream



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst thing of all is the silence, and feeling as if he can't do anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Down

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ December 18, 2009.

  
He doesn’t know what he can say, so he swallows the words and drowns it with the alcohol instead. Watanuki sits on the veranda, looking up at the moon through the haze of the smoke in his pipe. He’s gotten used to smoking, now. And drinking, too.   
  
The night air is cool to the touch, but Watanuki doesn’t appear to be shivering. He wonders, briefly, if he should go and get the idiot something warmer to wear, because he probably wouldn’t notice if he was cold. But he doesn’t move.   
  
He finishes his drink and watches Watanuki out of the corner of his eye. The new shop owner does not turn to meet his gaze, his eyes still fixed on the sky, as if waiting for something to appear.   
  
And then he smiles, that same smile that feels like a punch to the gut. A smile that seems far too forced to be genuine, and yet Doumeki knows that it is.  
  
He sets his drink down and stands. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”   
  
Watanuki only nods.   
  
  
\---  
  
  
The next morning he meets her at the bus stop. Her hair is pulled up a little, into small buns tied with ribbons, Tanpopo sitting on her shoulder and chirping his greeting when he catches sight of Doumeki.   
  
She turns, too, and smiles—a sad, forced smile. “Good morning.”   
  
“… Hey,” he says, stopping to stand a small ways in front of her. She turns towards him fully, hands gripped together to prevent her from reaching out from touching anything. Tanpopo flaps his wings and sails over to Doumeki, landing on his shoulder and chirping in his ear, soft and gentle as yellow feathers brush over his neck. He reaches up to pet the little bird.   
  
“Going to class?” she asks, but already knows the answer.   
  
He nods.   
  
“I hope you have a good day,” she says, quietly. Then adds, “Will you see Watanuki-kun after?”  
  
“Yeah,” he says. He always does.   
  
“Today’s his birthday,” she says, and he nods. He already knew. Her expression crumbles for a moment before she manages to smooth it out, back to the perfect, unexpressive mask. Her smile is just as painful to look at as Watanuki’s, but for entirely different reasons.   
  
“Yeah,” he says.   
  
She’s digging around in her shoulder bag a moment, her face downturned so he can’t see her expression—but he can guess what it looks like. She straightens, holding a small, opaque bag. She holds it out to him, expression hopeful.   
  
“Will you… give this to him for me?” she asks.   
  
He eyes the bag—cookies. She’d cooked for him. He’ll be happy, in the only way he can be happy now.   
  
“Why don’t you give it to him?” he asks, but reaches out to take the bag from her. Her hands brush over his briefly, and she recoils, gripping her hands together behind her back. She smiles up at him and the way the light is shining makes it look as if her eyes are misting up—and he hopes that it’s only a trick of the light.   
  
“I…”  
  
He waits.   
  
She lowers her gaze. “I can’t.”   
  
“I know,” he sighs.   
  
She breathes in, her breath sounding shaky, but when he looks up from the bag and back at her face, she’s smiling and clear-eyed.   
  
“I missed his birthday last year, too,” she says. She shakes her head. She sounds too sad. “I can’t… I just...”   
  
She closes her eyes, looks torn—he knows she wants to visit, but she’s stopping herself. He can’t convince her. He bites his tongue, swallows the words he’s been saving for years, wishing he could shout at the two of them, shout at anyone. But he stays quiet. He opens his book bag and very tenderly sets her bag of cookies inside for that idiot’s birthday. He’ll give it to him this afternoon, after classes.   
  
“He’d be really happy to see you,” he says.   
  
She blinks her eyes a few times, and Tanpopo, sensing her distress, flies from Doumeki’s shoulder and back to hers, pecking affectionately at her chin. She pets him.   
  
“I know,” she whispers.   
  
She looks up at him, takes a step towards him. She looks as if she’s about to say something, to reach out and touch him. Her hands unfold and twitch, lifting slightly.   
  
But at that moment his bus turns the corner and she looks away, taking a few steps back.   
  
“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll see you later, Doumeki-kun.”   
  
“Yeah,” he says quietly.   
  
She nods, still looking away. “I’m sorry.”  
  
And then she runs away.   
  
  
\---  
  
  
“Here,” he says and drops the bag of cookies into Watanuki’s lap.   
  
He observes them, momentarily surprised, then lifts them up. The room is full of smoke and Doumeki’s arms are full of bags of food.   
  
“Happy birthday,” he tells Watanuki when their eyes meet. “Those’re from Kunogi.”   
  
“Himawari-chan…” Watanuki murmurs, and his grip on the cookies tighten momentarily, until he can feel the cookies crumbling beneath his touch and he loosens his grip. He looks up at him. “Is she well?”   
  
Doumeki is about to say something—to say she’s still too afraid to come back here, too afraid to influence his luck, still too damn afraid—but doesn’t. Instead, he just shrugs and moves away to set the food down in the kitchen. He moves steadily, his face set in a grim line. When he glances over his shoulder, he can see Watanuki smiling sadly as he bites into one of the cookies.  
  
“Delicious,” he hears him murmur as he slides the door shut behind him.   
  
He stands alone in the hallway, eyebrows furrowed.   
  
“Damn it,” he says to himself as he walks away. He hates this feeling, this silence, this emptiness.   
  
And yet he cannot say a thing.


End file.
